W.Va. homeland calls reporter for a visit

West Virginia isn't technically home, but it is a significant part of my life.

I'm a bit ashamed to admit I used to be embarrassed that my family hails from the Mountain State, the idea of hillbillies, I guess. Growing up, I used to cringe when either of my parents would start a sentence with the words "I reckon."

My older sister was born in West Virginia, but I was always quick to point out that I was from Shelby.

For the last few years, my most recurring dreams have been about West Virginia. I hadn't been there in 30 years until last week.

I felt compelled to go back.

I always take the last week of July off to play in the News Journal Tennis Tournament. Since my heart doctor told me in March that I can't ever play tennis again, I decided to get away — 275 miles away to the southern part of West Virginia.

Ever since the state quarters came out a few years ago, I have wanted to see New River Gorge. Even on a small coin, it looked so beautiful.

I decided to spend two days there and two days in Hatfield-McCoy territory, where I still have relatives.

When I was ready to leave, I tried to program my hotel in Fayetteville into my GPS unit. No matches were found.

I called the front desk, and the clerk gave me another address, one at "the bottom of the hill." It registered on my GPS, but I was a little worried. I remember those treacherous mountain roads and a shocking lack of guardrails.

Despite my concerns, the trip was uneventful. After checking in at my hotel, I headed to the national park. As I looked out from the Canyon Run Visitor Center, the view literally took my breath away.

New River Gorge is surely one of the most beautiful places in the world. The bridge itself is awe-inspiring. It is 3,030 feet long and 876 feet high. How high is that? Beneath the bridge, the Statue of Liberty could stand twice atop the Washington Monument with 20 feet to spare.

The park didn't stay open much longer, so I planned to return for a full day. I was interested in hiking the nature trails. New River Gorge Park is spread out across 70,000 square miles.

I asked one of the workers to recommend a couple of trails. I figured I'd do one in the morning and the other in the afternoon.

The first hike I took was on Endless Wall Trail, a 2.4-mile loop through the Appalachian forest. The trail was a bit slick from the morning dew. With a temperature around 60 degrees, the air felt invigorating.

The forest was almost eerily still. I expected to see and hear more birds. About a third of the way through, I came across a sign advising never hike alone. Oh, well.

Said sign also noted the trail was in black bear country.

I didn't encounter any black bears, but I also couldn't find my car when I emerged from the forest. I assumed the loop would take me back to the same point. I didn't realize the loop involved walking down the road to the beginning of the trail.

I ended up being stranded for about 30 minutes before a park ranger found me standing alone in my Dan Marino jersey.

After a quick lunch, I was ready for more (mis)adventures. My next destination was Long Point Trail, which goes 1.6 miles each way.

The guide said to use caution around the unprotected cliff edges. I'm afraid of heights, but I had to see the spectacular views.

When I reached Long Point, my knees were literally shaking. A relaxed mountain biker lay by the side of the cliff, seemingly without a care in the world.

I headed back, realizing I probably overdid it. A heart patient probably shouldn't hike 5.6 miles in one day by himself, but I was inspired by the amazing beauty around me.

The next day, I headed to Mingo County. My aunt and uncle live there. I hadn't visited since high school.

I remembered the creek on the other side of the road and the church next door, but little else about the area seemed familiar.

My uncle, who is my dad's youngest sibling, retired from the coal mines three years ago. My dad sought a life outside the mines when he — like many others in the region — relocated to this area to work at General Motors.

I asked my uncle if we could walk the railroad, the most frequent of my West Virginia dreams. He said, "Let me get my pistol."

He was serious, explaining they have had problems with roaming dogs and poisonous snakes. After we had walked some distance, my uncle said we had better turn around.

"There's nothing but drug dealers down there," he said.

Appalachia is not immune to the drug problem.

By the time we got back, my aunt had returned from work. I asked her if she took the beauty of West Virginia for granted.